As Cold as Winter
by Phoebonica
Summary: In which a young Lemony learns that terrible things can and do happen, even when you're in love.


Disclaimer: This story is based purely on speculation and should not be taken as a definitive account of events in Mr Snicket's life. In other words, I don't own ASOUE, please don't sue me.

As Cold as Winter

There was a time when Lemony believed in happy endings. Believed _implicitly_, in fact, which just means "without even thinking about it". A time when he would have said without questioning that people were good, the world was kind, and love was eternal. And that everything worked out for the best.

Later on, he could tell you the exact moment that it ended.

This was a few years before the schism. The tensions within the organisation were already beginning to build, but Lemony was unaware of them. Oblivious. Too caught up in his own idealism to realise that not everyone shared his noble convictions, that there were dark undercurrents at work, things smouldering beneath the surface that could burst into flames at any moment and bring the whole world crashing down. He found out, of course, found out far too late and cursed himself for not having seen it coming. But everything seems obvious after the event, and this story is not about the collapse of VFD, at least not directly. The event that ended Lemony's optimism came, as we said, some time earlier.

He was up in the mountains, making notes on the lichens that grew between the rocks there, how they responded to the cold, to the changes in temperature as the seasons passed. It wasn't the most interesting or exciting of tasks, but he'd chosen it from the rota for a very simple reason, one that could be expressed in a single word. _Beatrice_.

She was training the eagles. There had to be at least one other person up there with her. Normally there'd have been two or three other volunteers around, but most of the things that needed to be done at the top of a mountain were fantastically boring and not very urgent, and it was an extremely cold day. Lemony couldn't have cared less. He scrambled awkwardly over the rocks, heading for a peculiarly shaped patch of green clinging to the underside of a small ledge. There were a lot of loose pebbles, and he slipped, grazing his hand slightly.

"Be careful," Beatrice called from below him. In the sky above her the great birds circled, waiting for her to signal with a blast on her whistle where they should aim for next.

"I'm okay," he told her, reaching the ledge. She smiled and turned her attention back to the eagles. Lemony noted down the shape and position of the lichen, its exposure to light, degree of shelter, the way it attached itself to the rock. Satisfied, he slid his notebook back into his pocket and turned to watch his beloved as she commanded the flock. The expression on her face was what captivated him. He'd seen it so many times, that look of complete absorption in whatever she was doing, absolute focus. She could be soldering copper wiring into some fantastical invention, or mixing Thai peanut sauce in the kitchens, or translating ancient Latin manuscripts. Always that same look. It was just one of the innumerable things that he adored her for.

He'd tried to write them down once, all the little things that made him love her, and given up when he ran out of paper. It seemed absurd now to think that she could be contained by words. For all his writing talents, he'd never be able to capture more than a glimpse of her. _Inexpressible_. The idea thrilled him.

He started to make his way back down the slope, stepping gingerly over the rocks that were becoming loose and slippery now as the seasons changed. Almost at the bottom, he trod on what seemed like a perfectly solid stone and felt it crumble under his weight, causing him to slip and land heavily on his back. Beatrice heard him fall and turned, concern in her eyes turning to relief and a hint of amusement as he raised a hand, letting her know he was okay. She sighed in mock exasperation and blew her whistle, one long shrieking note, the signal to disperse. As one, the eagles took off from the ground around her and headed back to their nests.

Lemony got to his feet, wincing slightly. He watched the eagles soar off into the distance, rising higher and higher until all he could see were tiny black specks against the blue. "You know," he said, "if I was an eagle, you wouldn't even need the whistle." He looked back at Beatrice, who was gathering up the training equipment and putting it neatly back in its bag. "I'd do anything you wanted, just to hear your voice."

She stood up, looping the bag over her shoulder. "You are so sweet," she said, smiling, and suddenly Lemony couldn't feel the cold at all. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

"It's the truth," he said. "You know me. I'm just reporting the facts."

"_Really_?" Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Come here, Mr Objective Reporter. I'll give you something to –"

It happened so suddenly, neither of them could have stopped it.

There wasn't time to run. In the time it took to realise what was happening, it had happened, there was already nothing anyone could do.

The eagle must have flown back round behind them, not gone back to its nest with the others. It swooped down out of the sky, shrieking wildly, and before either of them could move or even react at all it had Beatrice in its talons, lifting her struggling into the air.

Beatrice screamed. Lemony screamed.

He ran forward and tried desperately to grab hold of her, reaching for her flailing hand and missing it by centimetres. A few seconds earlier and he might have got her, but the moment was past if it had ever existed and she was far above him now, a tiny figure growing smaller and smaller even as he stood there in shock. The whole mountain seemed to be collapsing beneath him, but he couldn't remember how to move or think or even breathe. He couldn't reach her. There was nothing he could do.

The next thing he was aware of was running, running harder than he'd ever run before back down the mountain towards headquarters, skidding on the rocks and slipping and falling and barely noticing when he was down and when he'd got up again because it didn't matter, nothing mattered, none of this was real, and the next thing after that was stumbling through the doors and collapsing to his knees on the carpet. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him, slowly, and somebody said _oh my god Lemony what's wrong_ and another person said _where's Beatrice_. It was hard to hear anything over the sound of the wind, which shouldn't have been this loud inside, and in any case he was having trouble remembering how to form a sentence. He couldn't get the words to stay together, they came out in fragments, one at a time – _Beatrice… eagle… gone…_

Jacques was there. Jacques was kneeling down in front of him, one hand on Lemony's shoulder, and saying "She was taken by an eagle?" Lemony nodded. He might have known Jacques would be able to say what had happened, even if he couldn't. He tried to stand up but the room was shifting around too much and he felt sick. Jacques put an arm around him to steady him and said, "Lemony, this is important. _Which way did they go_?"

"That way," Lemony muttered, pointing. He wanted to say _I know it's important, you don't have to tell me this is important_ but he still couldn't speak, not properly, not in anything resembling adult human speech. He was shaking. Jacques looked up and said something to somebody standing behind him, probably M, and then M raised his voice and started ordering everyone into groups of three. Search parties. They were going to go and look for her. He needed to go with them and he tried to stand up again and this time managed it. Jacques stood up too, still holding on to him.

"I need to go find her," Lemony said, trying to sound calm even though what he wanted to do was fall down on the floor again and start screaming. He sounded like a five year old.

"Lemony, you're in shock. You're in no state to go anywhere."

Lemony pushed himself away from Jacques and stood up straight. "I need to _find_ her," he said again, louder this time, louder but not too loud because he didn't want to sound hysterical, didn't want to sound like he was panicking because panicking makes you a danger to yourself and others and they wouldn't let him go, they'd make him stay here and then he wouldn't be able to do anything and he wouldn't know where she was or what was happening to her and oh god why were his hands still shaking like that, stop it stop it _stop it_ you're making me look _crazy_ I need to go _find her_. Jacques looked at M who looked at Lemony and then nodded, grimly.

"Okay, you come with me and Ike and Daniel." Jacques patted Lemony awkwardly on the shoulder. "Just – just try to relax, okay? It's going to be fine."

"Fine," Lemony repeated as Jacques went away to get their snowsuits. _Fine, fine, she's going to be fine_ echoed in his head as if he could make it come true that way, as if you could make something real by just imagining it was so. They would find her, the four of them, L and J and I and D which was one more person than the other groups but that didn't matter because they would find her and it was all going to be okay. She'd be perfectly safe and they'd take her back to the headquarters and everyone would be there, and they'd have hot chocolate, with cinnamon in it, and he'd curl up on the sofa with his arms around her and they'd laugh about how silly he'd been, working himself up into a panic like that when it was obvious nothing really bad was going to happen. Everything was going to be just fine.

Daniel and Ike were here now. They were standing one on either side of him and Daniel was talking, saying something that was probably meant to be reassuring but didn't matter because Lemony couldn't really hear him. Dark green vines trailed across the pattern of the carpet and he traced them with his eyes from one side of the room to the other, because it was easier not to think if you had something to occupy yourself with, even if it was only a verdant foliage design that you'd seen hundreds of times before. _If I can follow a line from one side of the room to the other, that means she'll be okay_, he thought, but he never found out if he could or not because Jacques came back with three snowsuits and four masks. The others began to pull the snowsuits on over their regular clothes, and then pulled the masks over their heads, but Lemony just gripped his mask in both hands and made no move to put it on, overcome by a sudden wave of shock – the _gnats_, how in the world had he forgotten about the gnats? What if _they_ got her? She had her mask with her but what if she'd lost it (_the way he'd obviously lost his running down the mountainside and not even _realised_ it was gone until this moment_) and now she was trapped in a cloud of them and couldn't see to get away? She'd fall down a ravine or into the stream and be washed away, or just be stung too badly to move and be lying there helpless and frozen in the snow and he'd _never get there in time to…_

Lemony suddenly realised everyone was looking at him again, all with the same expressions of concern on their faces as if he might explode. He looked down at his hands, which had turned white from gripping the mask so tightly, and then he looked up into Ike's concerned face, which was coming closer and saying, "Lemony, maybe you ought to…"

"No, I'm fine," Lemony insisted, although he wasn't fine at all and he knew they all knew that. Every single person in this room could see how terrified he was, they could read it in his eyes. He pulled the mask on quickly, and yanked it down over his face before Ike had a chance to say anything else. Looking at them all through the mesh was almost like being in another room, another world, a quiet, safe place where nothing could reach him. They couldn't even see him. "Come on," he said, and his voice sounded more secure even as he said it, calmer, more responsible. Not the voice of someone who was being torn apart inside. Not at all.

They set out.

And he could never remember afterwards just how long they spent searching. It could have been hours, days, weeks, although the others would insist it was only an hour and a half at most. He couldn't picture it in his mind, couldn't say _this happened, and then this, and this_, because there was nothing to hold on to, only vague flashes of memory like the fragments of a dream. Climbing down the Vertical Flame Diversion with the wind howling around him. Hearing Ike's voice from a distance, saying "Beatrice knows how to look after herself, don't worry," and believing him for almost five minutes before the worry came rushing back. For once in his life he wasn't paying attention. Jacques was right. He really wasn't in a fit state to go anywhere. He tried to stay focused, remember his training, but his imagination raced ahead, betraying him.

_She's dead already, it's too late. There were thousands of them there when it got back to the nest, and they tore her to shreds. She's gone, she died instantly._

_She's not dead yet. She's lying there bleeding, she's dying, dying alone and frozen in the snow and she's wondering why I haven't come to find her. And I won't get there in time, none of us are going to get there in time and she'll die there when we could have saved her. We could have saved her and we didn't._

_It dropped her. It flew across the rocks and then it dropped her the way they drop turtles to break them open and we'll find her at the bottom of the cliffs smashed into pieces with her mouth still open to scream._

_We'll find her with her eyes pecked out. Empty sockets, staring._

_We'll find her and she won't remember anything, she'll have permanent brain damage, that incredible mind gone forever. She won't know anything. She won't know me._

_We'll find her and…_

_We'll find…_

_We…_

_We won't find her._

"No." Lemony stopped walking and shook his head as if he could shake the thought away. "No," he repeated quietly, feeling his eyes fill up with tears, and he moaned to himself in despair because it was true, wasn't it? They'd never find her, never. They'd keep searching, all of them, until it got dark, and then one by one they'd all start to turn back because it was too dark to see and far too late to do anything now. They'd give up. Except for him. He wouldn't give up, wouldn't go back inside, he'd stay out here all night and all the next night as well, and every day and night after that until he couldn't go any further and just collapsed into the snow. Even though there was no hope, even though he knew, now, that he'd never see her again, he'd stay out here until –

"_Lemony!_"

Jacques' shout brought Lemony out of his despair with a start. At first he couldn't tell what his brother was so excited about, but then he saw it – a thin plume of green smoke, coming from behind the next ridge.

"That's her, it's got to be! Come on –" Jacques began but Lemony was already past him, he was flying, he was racing up the slope and hardly daring to believe it until he reached the top and saw her, a lone figure surrounded by dark green clouds. In an instant he was down there, he was at her side and flinging his arms around her and then pulling away and apologising frantically when she flinched in pain. She was hurt quite badly but not as badly as he'd feared, the padding of her snowsuit protecting her a little from the eagle's talons. She embraced him cautiously and he pulled her closer, lifting his mask so he could see her properly and babbling with amazement _my darling, my angel_, and she put a hand to his mouth to calm him and murmured, "Oh Lemony, I knew you'd find me."

"She's all right!" he yelled to the others who were making their way cautiously down the slope. "She's all right," he repeated softly, feeling himself begin to cry again but not minding, not this time, because this time the tears were tears of joy, of blessed relief because everything was okay. Really, truly okay.

At the infirmary they dressed her wounds and gave her something to drink once they were sure it was safe, and then P announced to the anxious crowds around the bed that she was perfectly all right, they were going to keep her here overnight just to make sure, and now it was high time everyone got some sleep. Yes, even you, Lemony. You can see her in the morning, she's not going anywhere. Say goodnight, you two.

They said goodnight. Lemony bent down and kissed her gently on the cheek, between the bandages, and she smiled sleepily up at him and whispered, "Night, sweetheart," and closed her eyes. He left the room reluctantly, turning as he reached the door for one last look at her, asleep in the patch of silver moonlight that shone through the window far above her. Eventually he closed the door, and went upstairs.

Something was wrong. He still felt the same elation he'd felt earlier when he knew she was safe, but there was something else beneath that, something he couldn't understand or describe. It nagged at him all the time he was getting ready for bed, but it wasn't until he'd turned the lamp out and was slipping down beneath the covers that he realised what it was that was bothering him. He sat bolt upright. The room was suddenly freezing.

_I knew you'd find me._

That was what she'd said, the first thing she'd told him, and he knew she meant it. Knew that in her position he would probably have said the same thing, because they loved each other. Because they each knew the other one would always be there. But…

But she could have been lost. She _could_ have been, and he'd _known_ it. His loving her wouldn't help. He could love her till his heart burst and he _did_, he did _truly_, and it wouldn't be enough to save her. Sometimes there was _nothing_ you could do.

He shivered, alone in the darkness. And eventually he crept back downstairs and took his place in the chair beside her bed, listening to her breathe. He had to cry silently into his hands so that she wouldn't hear him and wake up, because she'd ask him what was wrong and he couldn't tell her, ever. Better that she slept, even though he wasn't sure that he could ever sleep again.

That wasn't the end, exactly. They were still together after that night, together for quite some time, and they were happy, and sometimes he still almost believed that they would live forever. But something had changed, something fundamental. He couldn't trust happy endings any more.

_Beatrice and Lemony._

_Love conquers nearly everything._


End file.
